


Order Of Events

by orphan_account



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Gen, Magic, Manipulation, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, Newt and Nagini Friendship, POV Alternating, Protective Tina Goldstein
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-10-05 07:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: An overheard argument between Tina and President Picquery changes the course of several lives.





	1. Eyes - Grindelwald

“-to help him!” Grindelwald paused outside the President’s door, his hand still on the knob as he cocked his head to listen.

“I thought I expressly told you to stay away from the Second Salemers, Ms. Goldstein,” the President replied, her voice thick with disapproval.

“I-” There was a pause, and even from outside Grindelwald heard Ms. Goldstein nervously clear her throat. “Yes, Madam President, you did.”

“Then why are you still watching them?”

“Credence,” Ms. Goldstein replied, “he needs us, he-”

“We have more important things to focus on than the son of that woman,” the President reminded her. “That beast is still out there, terrorizing the No-Majs, and Grindelwald is gaining influence. Ms. Goldstein, I want you to listen to me very carefully- _drop the case_.” He didn’t hear the other woman reply, and he stepped closer to the door, mildly intrigued by her silence. “You may leave,” the President finally said, and Grindelwald stepped back as the dark haired woman opened the door. She froze at the sight of him, her eyes going wide with surprise.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Graves,” she apologized, her gaze dropping to the floor as she stepped around him. He turned as she passed him, watching the woman quickly walk down the hallway. That look in her eyes, before he’d startled her- she wasn’t going to stop. What did she want with Credence, then?

“You may come in, Mr. Graves,” the President said, and he tucked away the question of Ms. Goldstein as he turned back to the office. Putting on his best smile, the man stepped inside.


	2. Discussion - Grindelwald

Grindelwald nodded goodbye to the President, pulling the door shut as he entered the hallway. He glanced down at his watch, counting ahead. He’d told Credence to meet him in the afternoon, he was certain he had enough time to speak with Ms. Goldstein before then. Grindelwald tucked his wand up his sleeve as he walked down the hallway, joining a small group of witches as they all headed for the elevator. Stepping inside, the man clasped his hands behind his back as they moved between the floors, drawing the goblin’s attention when they reached his floor.

Stepping off, Grindelwald looked about the cluttered department. He’d never actually bothered to learn where Ms. Goldstein had been relocated after her demotion. The man frowned, eyeing the bustling people about him as he walked down the aisle. No, no, n-

“Mr. Graves?” He turned, smiling at Abernathy as he returned the greeting. “What brings you down here, sir?”

“I’m looking for Ms. Goldstein,” Grindelwald replied, and Abernathy nodded.

“Ah, this way, sir.” The thin man set off, and Grindelwald followed him. They took a right, then a left, and Abernathy gestured to the cluttered desk before him. Ms. Goldstein was hunched over it, completely focused on the letter she was writing. Abernathy cleared his throat, and the woman looked up. Grindelwald smiled when she saw him and swallowed, her chair rattling back as she quickly stood.

“Thank you, Mr. Abernathy,” Grindelwald excused the man, stepping forward to stand before Ms. Goldstein’s desk as Abernathy left them. “Ms. Goldstein,” he greeted her.

“Mr. Graves,” she quietly returned it, only able to hold his gaze for a moment before she looked at the floor.

“I’d like to speak to you in my office,” he glanced at the letter, “if you have the time.”

“Of course, sir,” the woman hurriedly agreed, nodding.

“Good,” he replied, turning to start back the way he’d came, “come along, then.” Her heels clicking on the floor, Ms. Goldstein did as he’d told her to. They entered the elevator together, the woman’s eyes downcast as he told the goblin to take them back up his floor. He glanced at her as they moved upward, but she didn’t meet his gaze. When the elevator slid to a stop, Grindelwald stepped out first, walking briskly in the direction of his office. He held the door open for her when he reached it, and she entered his office and came to a stiff stop in the middle of the room. Grindelwald shut the door, making his way around her to lean back against his desk. Her eyes darted up to his, quickly dropping when he met her gaze.

“Ms. Goldstein, you’re not in trouble,” he assured her, but her posture stayed wound tight. “The Barebone boy,” he began, “why are you so interested in him?”

“You heard that?” she hesitantly asked, and he didn’t bother answering. “Well,” she twisted her fingers together, her eyes still fixed on the floor, “his mother, she... she beats him.”

“That’s truly unfortunate,” he agreed, “but what would you have the President do?”

“I don’t know,” Ms. Goldstein admitted, shaking her head, “but there has to be something!”

“I wish there was,” he told her, “but you know the rules. “Safety in Separation”-”

“Sir, you don’t understand,” the woman insisted, and he raised an eyebrow at her interruption. “That woman, she doesn’t love her children, but Credence- it’s like she truly _hates_ him. Please, sir,” she stepped forward, imploring him, “he needs our help!” Grindelwald heaved a sigh, straightening as he eyed her.

“You feel that strongly about this?” She nodded. “I’m assuming you’ll keep at this, even if I order you to leave it?” Her gaze dropped back to the floor, and she hesitated before replying.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I want to meet him,” Grindelwald declared, and her eyes snapped back up to his in surprise.

“What?”

“The Barebone boy,” he said, “I want to meet him.”

“Today?” she asked, and the man lightly chuckled, shaking his head.

“What do you work tomorrow?”

“I- I don’t,” Ms. Goldstein replied, and he leaned back against his desk, drumming his fingers against the wood as he thought about it.

“I have an early morning shift,” Grindelwald told her, “I should be out by three. How does a 3:30 meeting time sound?”

“... ok?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know where you live- how about we meet here instead.” Her eyes still wide, the woman nodded. “It’s decided, then,” the man said, straightening once more to make his way around the desk. He pulled the chair out, then paused when he noticed the witch still standing there. “You may go, Ms. Goldstein.”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, quickly taking her leave. As she shut the door, Grindelwald sat down leaned forward, resting his elbows on the fine wood as he considered his options.


	3. Alley - Credence

Credence made his way down the sidewalk, clutching his leaflets close as he neared the alleyway. The worry ate at him. He was late. Not by much, as far as he could tell, but maybe Mr. Graves had decided not to wait. Maybe it had annoyed him, or he’d taken it as a sign of disrespect. Credence hadn’t meant to run behind, it was just that mother’s practice for her speech tomorrow had gone on a little longer than usual. It wasn’t his fault, but what if Mr. Graves thought it was? His shoulders hunching, the boy nervously peered into the alleyway. He let out a breath- the wizard had waited for him! The boy stepped into the shadows, slowly approaching the man.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to be.” Mr. Graves smiled, reaching out to brush his hand against Credence’s cheek, and the boy leaned into the touch.

“I know you didn’t,” the wizard assured him. “How’s your search going?” Once again nervous, Credence gave a small shrug.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he murmured, “I haven’t found the child yet. I’m looking,” he quickly assured the man, “I just... It’s hard.”

“I have every faith in you that you’ll find the child,” Mr. Graves said. “Keep looking, you’re destined to bring them to me.” The man paused then, eyeing him. “There’s something else,” he finally continued, and Credence waited. “A witch who I work with, Ms. Goldstein, she’s concerned about you. Perhaps you’ve seen her before? She’s thin, has short black hair-” The woman from before? Credence nodded.

“I think I know her,” he said.

“She’d like to meet with you tomorrow,” Mr. Graves told him. “I’ll be with her, but I think it’s best that you act like we’re strangers.”

“Sir?”

“If she knew we’d been speaking, things might get... complicated,” Mr. Graves said. Why, though? The witch had defended him; comforted him much like Mr. Graves did. Credence didn’t quite understand it, but he nodded anyway.

“I can do that, sir,” he promised him, and the wizard smiled.

“Thank you, Credence.”

“You’re welcome,” the boy quietly said, and Mr. Graves’ smile widened before he disappeared in a swirl of magic. He’d seen the man do it several times now, but the sight of it still took Credence’s breath away. _Magic_. One day it would be his, and he’d be able to do the things Mr. Graves did. Maybe the wizard would even be the one to teach him, he hoped. The boy hadn’t yet worked up the courage to tell him about his own magic. It was a wild thing, nearly uncontrollable whenever he let it out. Compared to Mr. Graves’ effortless control over his, Credence’s was a terrible mess. The boy shook his head, stepping out into the fading light as he tucked his leaflets under his arm. Perhaps finding the child would please Mr. Graves enough that he wouldn’t mind Credence’s sloppiness. He could only hope.


	4. Stew - Tina

Tina set her purse aside, sighing in relief as she kicked off her shoes. _Much_ better. Queenie leaned back, grinning out at her from their kitchen.

“You’re awful happy, Teenie,” she noted in a sing song voice, and Tina smiled.

“I am,” she agreed, and her sister returned her smile.

“Why- Oh, the Barebone boy,” Queenie said, pausing. “That was awful nice of Mr. Graves!” Tina briefly thought about scolding her sister, then let the matter go.

“It _was_ rather nice of him,” she agreed, nodding.

“Take a seat,” Queenie told her, “I’m just finishing up a stew- Mrs. Rutherford had some leftover greens that she gave me.”

“Mrs. Rutherford spoils you,” Tina told her as she entered the kitchen and took a seat at their table.

“And I know you love it,” Queenie replied, winking at her. Tina rolled her eyes, sitting back as her sister turned back to the pot. “Now,” Queenie continued, “tell me all about how Mr. Graves made your day.”

“You already read my mind,” Tina pointed out, accepting the bowl her sister enchanted towards her. She looked down at the simmering meat and greens, licking her lips in anticipation as Queenie joined her at the table.

“I still like to hear you talk,” she said, and Tina picked up her fork and cleared her throat.

“So,” she began, and Queenie smiled, “I was working up a report to Mr. Abernathy when I heard him clear his throat. I looked up, and there was Mr. Graves standing beside him. Oh, Queenie,” she shook her head, mildly embarrassed, “I thought I was done for!” Her sister giggled, resting her chin on her hands as Tina continued.


	5. Pamphlet - Grindelwald

He made his way up the steps towards their base, smiling when the door opened for him. He stepped inside, and Vinda shut the door behind him.

“Watching for me?” he asked.

“Always,” the woman replied, following after him as he made his way toward the kitchen. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the thick aroma of warm bread and sweet meats. Vinda had already set the table, the woman taking the seat to his left as he sat down. He glanced at her full plate, then at the empty seat to his right. “Mr. Graves wasn’t feeling well,” she explained, “his lunch never settled.” Grindelwald nodded, picking up the knife and fork beside his plate.

“How _has_ our gracious host been doing?” he asked.

“He doesn’t suspect a thing,” the woman replied, “we’re still his dear friends from Germany.”

“Good,” Grindelwald said. “If that ever changes-”

“I’ll know what to do,” she assured him. As he began to cut into his bread, the woman gave him a mischievous smile. He raised an eyebrow as she turned in her seat and pulled a pamphlet off the counter. Turning back to him, Vinda offered it to him. Grindelwald set his fork down, accepting it.

“The Society for Magizoologists,” he read off the title, giving her an intrigued look. “Have you found a new hobby, Vinda?”

“One of my possible recruits is a member,” the woman explained, “they’re having an event this Saturday, and she invited me.”

“You’ll be going, then?” he asked.

“You’ve always told me to keep an eye out for passionate people,” Vinda said, “and if they’re anything like Mrs. Thomas...” She trailed off, grinning at him. “Besides, I thought you’d be interested in attending.” He raised an eyebrow at her. The woman reached out, turning the pamphlet pages till she got to a line of several close up photos of men and women. “I figured you’d want a chance to meet him.” Vinda tapped a finger on the first picture, the thin man within it giving Grindelwald a small, awkward wave. He looked at the name listed above him, his eyebrows rising as he read it.

“Newton _Scamander_?” The wizard looked up at Vinda. “He’s related to that little British Auror?” The woman nodded, tapping the picture’s face again as she spoke.

“I’ve talked with a few of our Ministry friends in Britain- they don’t think he has any strong political ties.”

“Perhaps we could change that,” Grindelwald murmured, eyeing the thin man.

“I’ll tell Mrs. Thomas I might have a plus one, then,” Vinda said, “she’ll be thrilled to meet you.” Turning back to her meal, the woman smiled to herself as Grindelwald set the pamphlet aside. A Magizoologist, he thought as he took another bite of bread. He wasn’t sure how such a wizard could help their organization, but he wouldn’t stop Vinda from pursuing it. She’d always had an eye for the unusual, he knew she’d find a use for the man. As Grindelwald finished off his meat, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was early for him, but he’d clean his dish and call it a night. Credence and Ms. Goldstein would require a delicate touch, he wanted to be well rested for their meeting.


	6. Late - Credence

Credence hesitated outside the church doors, swallowing as he eyed the handles. He hadn’t thought that his detour to the bank would take that long, but had it had gotten so dark so fast, and now he was late. He didn’t want to go inside. Sucking a breath in, the boy opened the door and quietly stepped in. He looked around, spotting Chastity by the sink. His sister looked up from her dishes, her hands pausing on the bowl she held as she looked at him.

“Credence?” Their mother called down to him, and Chastity’s gaze dropped as she turned back to the dishes. He looked up, seeing his mother standing at the railing above them. She didn’t speak again, instead raising a single eyebrow at him. The boy’s shoulders hunched as he slowly made his way to the stairs. Reaching the top floor, Credence walked down the hall to where his mother waited.

“I’m sorry, ma,” he quietly apologized. “I was out looking for a new meeting spot. The bank looks...” She silently stared at him. “I-” The woman held her hand out. Credence lowered his gaze, reaching for his belt. “I’m sorry, ma,” he repeated as he slipped it off and handed it to her. His hands shook as he held them out, and his mother adjusted her grip on the belt. As she raised her hand high, swinging downward, Credence tried to imagine what the Wizarding world would look like.

The boy sat on his bed, staring at the cuts on his hands. Stupid. He’d been so _stupid_ to go to the bank. He should’ve gone straight home after his meeting with Mr Graves. He shut his eyes, shaking his head. Stupid, stupid! A small knock at his door made the boy jump, and he looked toward it with wide eyes. Was it ma? Had Modesty heard him? The doorknob turned, and his gaze went to the floor as Chastity let herself in. She quietly shut the door behind herself, then turned towards him.

“Credence?” He didn’t reply, staring down at his hands as she slowly approached. His sister sat down on the edge of his bed, reaching for his left hand. He flinched as she took it, the girl setting it on her lap as she uncurled his fingers. “Don’t worry,” she told him as she showed him her wet dish rag, “it’s clean.” Credence hissed as she began to wipe away the blood, gritting his teeth as she focused on his palm. “I know,” the girl murmured as gently scrubbed at the largest cut on his hand, “it’s ok, it’s ok.” Credence gasped for breath when she finished, unable to stop himself from whimpering as she reached for his other hand. Chastity winced at the sound, giving him a guilt filled look as she laid his left hand across her lap. “I’m sorry,” she quietly apologized, and he shook his head as she began to clean his other palm. Not her fault- his. He slumped forward once she’d finished, resting his head against her thin shoulder. Chastity set the reddened rag aside, leaning her head against his as he closed his eyes.


End file.
